Just when you thought it was all over
by Spencer M. Collins
Summary: When the war is over and it seems like hope is here to stay, Hermione Granger is told that her story is just beginning. She has to go back, to the past, into Tom Riddle's deadly arms. It's a whole time traveling adventure, but this one is missing two best friends. For this present to exist, Hermione must go back and make one Tom Riddle fall for her.


"I do blame myself - " He raised his hand, determined not to be interrupted. " I do - I - I saw him, and I knew he was hurting." Dumbledore sat on his chair, the years never looked so profound in him as they did in that moment. He took a shattered breath and looked at the young woman in front of him.

"I could have done something." He shook his head. "But yet again I let my own feelings to be taken into consideration. First with my sister - " his eyes watered, "and then with Tom Riddle." A single tear rolled down his cheek. He knew that once more someone else is going to have to pay for his mistakes, and he felt like his heart being ripped from his chest.

The girl looked at her headmaster. Though she had heard from Harry about the sensitive side of this great wizard, she has never seen it firsthand. "Sir, amm - professor." She called, feeling embarrassed. "Perhaps that was the case - but you've done so much good..." She trailed off, a slight blush creeping her cheeks from the thought of comforting him. She cleared her throat, running her hand through her hair in frustration. " - and besides, none of it matters now. Voldemort is dead - we are safe." She managed only half a smile at the face of the miserable man.

"Now - my dear, it's when it matters most." Dumbledore said in a strong confident voice. With what he was going to say next he didn't deserve her comforting him.

The young wizard mouth fell slightly open, though she quickly straighten herself up and looked at him tentatively.

Dumbledore reached for a book lying on his table. A thick brown leather bound covered book The brunette recognized as being a yearbook. "This is from 1944 - Tom Riddle's seventh year at Hogwarts." He handed her the book.

The brunette rummaged her fingers on the familiar Hogwarts symbol and on the engraved year. Slowly she opened it. As always it began with the teachers photos and words to the students. On any other day She would have felt delighted to read and explore, but she knew something was waiting for her to uncover it. Next, she moved to the pictures of the head girl and head boy. Seeing Tom Riddle's smirking face send a jolt of hatred through her body. Why was he making her look at this. She was surprised to see a young Minerva McGonagall, she had no idea her professor was head girl, let alone in Riddle's year. Looking back from the book in her hand, she saw Dumbledore stare, encouraging her to carry on. After that there were a hundred of small self portrait of every student in school that year. She quickly browsed forward to the section of random photograph from the school year only to feel her breath being caught in her throat. Breathing heavily, she examined the photo. It was a rather large photo, taking about half the page. In the black and white photo, stood six Slytherin, huddled up in front of the castle doors. The young girl knew that they were 7th year because at the far left stood a young Tom Riddle, smiling broadly. In the picture he placed his left arm possessively on the waist of the girl next to him and with his right hand he tenderly tucked a brown escaped curl behind said girl ear. The eighteen years old witch watched over and over how Tom Riddle was pulling her closer and tucking her hair behind her ear. She kept watching until her eyes were too fogy with tears. Sighing heavily, the headmaster pulled the book from her hand.

When the girl lifted her gaze and locked eyes with him, he was sure that it would pain him less to split his soul in two and create a horcrux than to look at the devastated face of Hermione Granger and say the next words.

"The reason me and you are able to sit and talk here is not because of me, or even Harry. The reason this war was won - it is all thank to you."

Closing her eyes for a moment, the young Gryffindor took a long breath. She had the power to keep her friends and family alive. It took another second of resolution before her eyes snapped open and fury brown locked with light blue.

"Tell me everything."

Again stopping himself from showing any feelings, the headmaster stood up from his chair and walked aimlessly in the room, distracting himself while talking.

"I am not going to elaborate on time travelling extensively. The main thing I want to say is that you can't change the past-" He stopped to assess how she'll take his next words. "And so, you must go to the past now, in order for _this_ future to exist."

She simply nodded, appearing to easily grasp his words.

"In order for this future to exist, Tom Riddle needs to fall in love with you."

* * *

"As a 50 years younger Hogwarts professor, I was sitting in my office one day, when you first walked into my life, handing me a note." He tried to collect his thoughts, trying to remember what the girl in front of him knew, and what she didn't exactly. "You didn't say much about the future. Very little actually." She nodded again, trying to register it all. "Then you were sorted into Slytherin, spent your seventh year there, and just like the note informed me to do, I sent you back to this exact date- at the end of the year." He finished lamely, hoping the promise of returning only a minute later will put her at ease.

She didn't look at him for a few minutes. Staring out of the window at the blue, bright, filled with hope sky. A hundred questions running through her mind, but all seemed unimportant compared to the one burning question, "why was I looking at Tom Riddle like that?"

"Hermione." The use of her first name pulled her out from her trance.

He was sitting again. The miserable mask from earlier returning to cover his features. "It's just a _Dumbledore cycle_ sir." She smiled at his baffled stare. "One Dumbledore meets me in the past, knowing he will have to be the one doing the sending in the future. It's nobody's fault." A few stubborn tears escaped her eyes and she shot her companion another watery smile. "I will see you in a minute sir." She breathed quietly, almost acceptingly.

"Very well. Do you want to say goodbye before- before you go?" He asked knowingly. "I'm sure Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter will find it rather strang, but I believe, like all of us, they will survive."

"No." She knew that seeing Ron and Harry will change her mind. They just begun, a minute ago, and here she was going to the hands of another. "I would rather like to know what my presence there had accomplished. He still tortured and killed-" she stopped abruptly, "no- I- I don't suppose I want to know." Her features hardened. An internal struggle have seemed to be resolved. "Sir. In the picture, I- Riddle seemed to like me." The headmaster nodded thoroughly. "Well," She said the next part almost hopefully, "I heard all the stories and read every book about him being canny and manipulative so I'm sure he didn't really-"

"He loved you very much miss Granger."

She gulped lightly, lifting her legs to the sit and hugging her knees, her head resting upon. "How?- I mean, I can't look at a photo of him without fighting the urge to set it on fire and vomit. How can _he_ \- fall for _that?_ " Hermione finished dumbly, baring her chin deeper into her knees.

"You didn't inform me that your mission was to make Tom Riddle fall in love with you. I just woke up one morning and the boy seemed to be infatuated with you." Sensing her displeasure with his answer he added with a small smile, "I would advice against strongly disliking him without and apparent reason, _but_ the last person I ever believed to care about another human being would be Tom Riddle, and so miss Granger, I suppose, you simply have to be yourself."

Accepting his answer Hermione rose from the chair . She could have sat here all night, trying to make sense of this cruel faith she was given. But she knew better than that by now. She would face the problem head on, as always, just this time, it will have to be without her best friends.

Dumbledore, also standing, fished an old brown knapsack from his desk and handed it to her. "It has some era appropriate clothes, some money and the note to pass to my younger self." She took the bag and methodically placed it on her bag, checking to see if the clothes on her body are approved for the trip. She was wearing a red dress that ended just above her knee and wasn't too revealing at the chest area and brown strappy sandals. A nod from Dumbledore reassured her of such.

"Wait." She cried, suddenly realizing. "We ruined all the time turners. How am I.." She didn't bother to finish, instead she smirked to herself for not trusting her exceptional headmaster.

He smiled warmly at her and pulled his wand. "Miss Granger, do try to enjoy yourself if you can. And remember, my door would always be open for you." He raised his wand and mumbled something Hermione didn't hear.

She felt a strong pull in the bottom of her stomach, pushing her down. Her surroundings turning more bright by the second until she was completely surrounded by strong white light, and then everything was spinning and with a loud thud, Hermione Granger found herself sprawled on the grass in front of the lake at what she was certain was a 1944 Hogwarts.


End file.
